


You Know You Want To

by JKRobertson



Category: Bleach
Genre: F/M, Reader-Insert, Sexual Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, dream-based, high school romance revisited, potential cheating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-17
Updated: 2019-07-17
Packaged: 2020-06-30 08:05:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19849018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JKRobertson/pseuds/JKRobertson
Summary: I woke up from this dream about Ulquiorra and had to get it down.  Now you can enjoy it too.





	You Know You Want To

**Author's Note:**

  * For [EspadaIV](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EspadaIV/gifts).



> I apologize, this is a dreamfic, and therefore doesn't really adhere anything normal, but I thought it was hot and wanted to share. The setting is 10 years after high school, and the premise is that you dated Ulquiorra in high school, and this is the first time you have seen him since shortly after that.

Your husband had organized this party with all of his friends from work and their families. It was going nicely. There was one problem in the planning of the party, though, and that was that your old friends from school were in town for one day, which happened to be on the same day as this shindig. You argued with your husband before the party but he insisted that the date could not be changed. You compromised, and he agreed that you could invite your friends to come as well.

You did not expect when you asked your best friend to organize the impromptu reunion of school friends that she would invite  _ him.  _ The intense gaze. The inky black hair. The porcelain-white skin poured over flawless bone structure. He's matured, but otherwise looks the same. Your heart is in your throat as you approach to greet him.

At first it was the standard how are you? How’s it been going? Then it was casual contact. Just the brushing of the backs of your hands on accident. The touch of your hips and the sides of your thighs as you sat too close together on the sofa for a moment.

You notice his emerald eyes watch you as you move across the room. You see the slight hurt on his pale face when you tell him that you had left the country for seven years, and he had had no idea. You perceive him barely flinch when you tell him that’s where you met your husband and that your son is in kindergarten. He looks bored when he tells you the bare minimum about his wife.

What you didn’t expect was for him to follow you outside for ice and stand right behind you as you bend over the cooler; the heat from his body radiating off of him. A micro-step backwards and you’d feel him on you again.

He asks you a question. You’re too distracted to hear his words and merely hum a non-committal response. He must mistake it for assent, because his hand finds the curve of your hip again like no time has passed at all.

Your body responds in kind. Remembering how hot it is inside, you propose a stroll in the chilly night air. You know it’s a bad idea, but you suggest it anyway.

You don’t go far. Just up the block and around the corner, past your old house. You begin to talk about old times, and the change in temperature and topic seems to bring you back to reality. As you turn around to go back home you ask if he has been partaking in any of the refreshments. He tells you that no, he has not, but that everything looks great. His smooth, baritone voice has the same effect on you that it always did.

You mention that your mouth is dry, and when you get back you need something to drink. You ask if he needs anything. At this point he’s a couple steps ahead of you but stops. “Yes, I’m very thirsty,” he murmurs before looking over his shoulder at you. You know that look.

“Oh,” you only whisper. “You are?”

He closes the distance quickly and grabs the back of your neck. His lips press against yours and his tongue parts your lips. He tastes the same as you remember.

When you finally remember that you have neighbors, you pull back. You look left and right and relax. It’s quite dark and it doesn’t appear that anyone else is outside, and the house you stand before is unlit. “We better get back,“ you say, your eyes falling to the pavement. 

He lets you lead the way, but you don’t get far before his hands are on your waist and his mouth is right next to your ear whispering, “we could get in your car and drive off somewhere dark. We could go to that day cottage we used to go to. We can find a bedroom upstairs and hope no one notices.“

You don’t respond but keep walking after he lets you go, your breath struggling. When you get back to the house, you step up onto the porch and go around the side,back toward the cooler, hoping no one noticed your absence. You fill a bucket with ice and make your way towards the back door but before you get there he presses his body against you, pushing your front into the siding of your house, and hisses into your ear, “Or I can take you back into the alley over there…” the steam of his breath bathing your ear.

You are panting at this point. You know it’s wrong. You don’t want to do it., but you can’t find your voice. You just keep panting.

He takes that ice bucket out of your hand and grabs your other one, leading you toward the darkness.

Then you wake up.

**Author's Note:**

> That's it. Sorry if you're frustrated, that's how I woke up!


End file.
